Against the Odds
by SailingSeas1999
Summary: The unlikely meeting of Finnick Odair and Annie Cresta: two people from different backgrounds, one an infamous pirate, the other the King's niece and guard. What will happen when they meet? Will they get along or will it be over before they even get to know one another? Will it be against the odds?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1 - Panem, France**

He had been sighted: four kilometres off the coast of Panem, France. He was well known amongst Europe – sailing from Northern England to Southern France – stopping off in places such as Spain, or Port Dynasty (a favourite to the pirate community). Everybody had had some type of meeting with him: either it be you woke up one morning to find that your stall had been raided, or that you were shot on sight; there really being no in-between. And this was the day that the King finally saw his chance, sending out his guarding battalion, dressed in the finest of materials – their jackets of dark navy in colour, their shirts ironed and white, their trousers beige and straight whilst their dark boots reached mid-calf. They were an impressive sight to see, especially since it was the King's brother who led the group: his niece just besides him. It had taken years of persuasion for her to join them, not with the king, but her parents: wanting her to grow up with the average, 'royal' life, to have been married by twenty and to have had kids right away, not to have been a guard or to ride horses, to cause mischief and always finding herself in trouble. But that was Annie Cresta: not your average royal family member.

The family was based in a regal town - their home towering above everything else: servants waiting on and guards surrounding every entrance and exit, whilst stable-hands looked after their horses. The Cresta siblings' parents were ones with reputations to upheld, the father a little more relaxed than the mother. She had been brought up in the 'correct way', eating with cutlery in the correct manner, always using her manners and knowing when to be quiet whilst her husband took most of the decisions. Not that he was a horrible man, Annie adored her father, just like she did with Uncle. They were similar; twins in fact, apart from her father took the quieter life whilst the other was up for adventure - the reason he took to sailing. Even though, her mother was a little 'strict' the children did love her, apart from the fact that she was trying to get Annie wed: organising suitor after suitor to meet her, hoping that she would finally be impressed. Which, she never was. There would always be something that she disliked: 'he was too confident, too controlling, too... boring.' Many of the men she met spoke far too highly of themselves, never bothering to allow her have a word so she simply dismissed them to her mother's frustration. However, there was one man in her life who had managed to root their way deep down inside of her heart, not one of romantic interests, but her brother, Tobias.

Tobias had always frowned upon her life decisions, he of course had been perfect in his parent's eyes: he rode, he wrote, he had pretty much picked his fiancé and this was to be set in stone within the next few months – the process of courtship complicated to say the least. The one thing that you couldn't doubt however was the bond between the pair: 'attached at the hip' as some would say, whenever you found one you would find the other – often upon the hills and riding, racing each other to the cliffs where if you were lucky, would see the large sprays of whales who swam past on a warm summer's evening. Yet today wasn't going to be one of those days: the crew were upon their ship – the best in the king's fleet – its mighty sails large and clean, waving in the wind and restricted by the large ropes the sailing crew controlled. The atmosphere around them was one of order and panic: they had to bring Finnick Odair to justice; the Captain on the Black Pearl and the one with hundreds of murders and robberies to his name. Even so, he had eluded capture for years now, countless attempts that had failed, his wit often overcoming whoever tried to capture him. And they would go without evidence, too, having the habit to sink whatever ship that challenged him, sending the crew down with it – and today, the ship that was going aginst his was the one of the King's: his brother and his niece both sailing it with determination in their eyes.

"And the plan is?" Annie asked as they set sail, the morning had been one of 'do it now, I'll explain later,' none of the crew truly being briefed after the sighting had been made, after all, it wasn't every day when one of the most infamous pirates sailed by your shore, and the reward on his head was enough to retire every member of the group: not that they would, they enjoyed their job - looked after and well fed, what else could they ask for?

"We capture Odair, bring him back to port where he'll face trial, which he will of course be found guilty. Then he'll be hung." Her Uncle explained rather simply, pre-occupied as he looked through a set of lenses.

She just nodded, the one thing you couldn't show was hesitation, it was how she had become part of this crew. Women weren't meant to sail, especially ones of blue blood – but she couldn't help but feel sorry for the young man, or whoever they caught for example, everyone ended up with the same fate no matter their story – their crew normally following with them. "Then I guess I'll go inform everybody else of that plan." She agreed with a slight nod.

"Very well." He mumbled. He was a man of blue blood, thinking that he was above everybody else but did put many before him. He fought leg and limb for Annie to sail with him, especially after seeing how much interest and determination she had to become a guard, it wouldn't be fair. So that was what had happened - resulting in a dispute between him and his brother's wife - not that he really cared, he got what he wanted.

 _ **The Black Pearl**_

The day had run pretty smoothly, much to Finnick's liking. He had Embla by his side, looking over maps and more maps in his cabin - sprawled out across his desk with countless pencil markings to where their next route should be. He had had the common sense to not raid Panem, after all, whoever did rarely came out of alive. So they gave the coastal Capitol a wide-berth, whilst the rest of his crew carried out duties: Carl, an older, tanned-skinned man cooked, whilst a smaller, but stockier man named Dan was on the upper deck, watching out over the horizon whilst other notable crew members, such as Duke, sailed. The quiet was broken however when footsteps were heard, hurriedly making their way down to the lower deck and eventually planted themselves outside of Finnick's room, knocking and entering - a blush on his cheeks when he saw the pair of them.

"Sorry to interrupt, you two..." He glanced between Finnick and Embla, knowing the history and the awkward chemistry between them, most of the crew just seeing it as a relationship that benefited them both: no strings attached, both of them getting what they wanted. She was a well-built, dark-hired woman, with high cheekbones and hazel eyes, having met Finnick and become a member of his crew after... well, that's a story for another time. "There's a ship heading in our direction, from the Capitol."

"A ship? But we posed no threat, we've even got our white-" Finnick frowned, sighing before he stood straight, running a hand through his mop of tangled, dirty blonde hair. "You know what to do. Order for the anchor to be dropped, everybody on deck. _Now_." He would protect the ship with his life, after all that he went through to afford such a beautiful ship he wouldn't hold back against the King's - even if it meant him boarding it and taking over it himself.

 **In no ways are the characters mine (Annie Cresta and Finnick Odair) nor some of the place locations, or the ship name for the matter. Credit goes to authors and creators!**

 **I know this is pretty descriptive, but I wanted to set the scene. Feedback and ideas are appreciated!**


	2. Chapter 2

It was a blur, the minutes leading up to the impact sailed by quickly - the cool breeze pushing them gracefully through the blue waters like a hot knife through butter. Unlike other ports, they weren't tinted with slicks of oil, whale hunting was banned here and the King restricted what types of ships entered his waters, meaning the sea around Panem's port was one of the cleanest and most pleasant. The people who lived there were the lucky ones, the rest of the country had its own tricks up its sleeves, but of course with being the Capitol you had to be the best, and that was what it was known for. What jolted Annie from her thoughts however was the large sound that riveted through the body of the ship, the splintering of the wood and the groaning from the strain of it: the damage to both of the ships was minor, but it was something that did need patching up. Nevertheless, her Uncle was a determined man, he had made his way through many ships and if this was going to be his only chance at capturing the secretive Odair then he would do anything to bring him to justice.

The familiar smell of smoke soon filled the air, lingering heavily, clouding them as the cannons were loaded, guns were filled with bullets with blades at their belts. They had been through this countless times, no longer needing orders or instructions, simply waiting for their Captain to raise his voice.

"Fire!" He yelled, angrily so, remaining at the wheel so he could positions theirs as close to the Black Pearl as he could - he wanted this more than anything, the recognition his crew would receive would be something that nobody had seen before. After all, nobody had caught the Captain of the Black Pearl before: perhaps the reason why the price on his head was so large, raging panic throughout many towns whenever they saw the dark sails nearing their waters. Following his order, noise soon filled the space around them, the booms of the cannons going off one after one, followed either by the large splash into water or the creaking of wood, or even the cry of a man. But the cry of the man never happened, instead the tables began to turn. Things had never not gone to plan before, but the organisation on the Pearl seemed much more... organised. Everybody played their part, the sharp shooting of a dark haired woman who eluded their bullets by hiding behind the sails poles, turning and shooting down their crew one by one.

Annie had found herself hiding behind a large crate, a high-pitched ringing sound in her ears and her heart racing within her chest, she couldn't hear anything but the ringing. Why had this suddenly gone wrong? Another large hit sent their ship to the right, a cannon lower than theirs puncturing the main body which allowed vast amounts of water to flood in - they were going down. Sinking. This was it. She instantly began to regret her decisions then, her brother had never wanted her to do this, neither had her parents, but being as stubborn as she was she had been adamant and forced herself onto the ship: she was going whether she liked it or not and now she regretted that greatly. What would they say once they found out? They would be heartbroken because of her, only worsened by the fact that her Uncle would be gone too - fathers lost and women widowed, their children never to see their fathers again. She felt sick.

 _ **The Black Pearl**_

Oh so they were winning, were they? Nobody would hurt his ship, his beauty. He wouldn't go down without a fight and it was a fight he was putting up. He had done this countless times, Embla would shoot from behind the sails, hidden from the firing bullets of the other ship, whilst he helped with Dan, finding a ladder and positioning it across, balancing it on one ledge of his ship and catching the end of theirs with the other end, making some type of pathway - allowing them to make their way from his ship to theirs - nothing better from fighting from within, whilst Duke continued to keep control of the ship, having always had the talent to remain calm in these situations - it was nothing new, he had been sailing for a good fifteen years: one of the most experienced, if not the most experienced member of Finnick's crew to date.

Watching the other crew go down one by one was always a thrill to him, he knew that he would do this: he had had no casualties, not yet - _too early to count your chickens, Finnick,_ as his grandmother would say. He smiled at the thought, leaping across the final few feet to the other ship - its deck already covered with water - a downside the royals ship, they were always so heavy, packed with foods and goods, half of which they didn't need. _Their downfall,_ he guessed. He simply shot whoever he saw on sight.

"And there he is, the magnificent Finnick Odair," The Captain smirked smugly on seeing him, leaving his wheel - he knew that they had little chance but wouldn't go down without causing some damage, already happy enough that they had damaged the Pearl enough to let water in. He had always promised himself however that he would go down frowning or begging, he would go down proudly instead.

"Magnificant? I'm happy with that," He grinned, his gun by his side with his fingers wrapped firmly around it, "I see that your ship is sinking, no? It's a bit wet."

He rolled his eyes, "Well done for pointing out the-"

"Get away from him!" Cried an unsually high pitched voice for a man, and on seeing the figure come out from hiding saw in fact, it wasn't a man, it was a woman. A young one, too, her hair long and wavy, tied away from her face, her eyes bright and green with freckles, oh what was he doing now? He was being slow.

"And who's this? Your little protector?" He mocked, looking back to the Captian before pointing the gun to the girl, prodding it into her chest, which she gasped at and looked to her Uncle with panicked eyes. If there was something that you couldn't fault Annie on was her loyaty to her family, she would do anything for them, sacrifice herself even. She was the disappointment to the family, anyway, or how her mother had told her - despite her brother always yelling when she said this and always taking her out riding whenever she was sad to cheer her up. He was the sweetest of people and one of the most protective she knew too, nobody could fault him however and she doubted that he had ever really gotten into trouble, even despite him putting spiders into her bed one night which sent her screaming.

 _Tobias..._ She never got to say goodbye. "No. I'm not his 'little protector.'" She mocked then, "I'm part of his crew, smartass. Who do you think you are?"

Finnick had a smug expression pulling at his features, "Smartass? Well I've never actually been called smart before, but I would say that this is a smart move-" And with that he swiftly moved the gun from her chest, pointing it in her Uncle's direction and pulling back the trigger, the bullet killing him instantly.

It felt as if everything stopped there and then, her chest growing heavy and her eyes saddening. He was dead? This- this pirate had just killed her Uncle right in front of her! How dare he! But she felt too lost to do anything, the one man that she actually looked up too and trusted was gone, and she pulled her own gun out of her own belt to shoot him, but not quickly enough as she soon found someone grabbing her from behind, her arms pinned to her back and a knife to her throat.

"So what about this pretty one? Is she sinking too?" He snarled.

He looked to her, unusually feeling somewhat bad, her expression showed everything. Did they know each other? "We'll give her a choice. She either sinks... or she comes with us."

"I'm not sailing with you." She spat through clenched teeth, her eyes glazed with tears no matter how hard she tried to hide her emotions.

"Oh? That's a shame. You're a pretty one."

Annie just stared at him, too hurt to make out any words but determined enough to not show anything. This wasn't her usual character however, when she was with somebody she trusted, like Sam, for example - another tale to tell - she was sweet, quiet, a harsh word never left her lips and she never thought of them either. Only when she got like this was when everything came out: and now with her uncle gone what could she do? She couldn't swim, not well enough to swim the whole four kilometres back anyway and she doubted that anybody else would be alive either - lifeless bodies filled the deck, blood mixing with water to her horror. Oh if she lived this would bring back nightmares. The least she could do was try to live though, for her family at least, she could try persuade him to let her go at the next port, then she would be able to travel home and organise a full-scale attack on him and his crew. That had to be the plan, thinking of this distracting her enough to stop looking at her uncle, a lump in her throat at his lifeless body.

"Fine. I'll come with you - but I'm doing you no favours." She snapped.

"I'm certain I'm the one doing you a favour here, princess." He continued to smirk, before waving with his hand for his crew to 'un-board' the ship, "Take what you can find! We need to leave, others will be here soon!" He called then, Annie feeling a sharp jab between her shoulder blades as the man who held her forced her back to the Black Pearl.

 **Thanks for the review already, it means a lot! I'll try to update between once or twice a week, or more if you're lucky :) Feedback and reviews are greatly appreciated!**


	3. Chapter 3

Being locked away was something Annie had never imagined that she would experience. It was roles reversal of sorts, she was always the one locking offenders away, not her being locked up by one - at least she didn't shove them away and bound their wrists with old shackles, they had the decency to provide decent ones unlike the crew on this ship, they were unpleasant and uncomfortable; her wrists bound tightly, the skin underneath going red and sore as she tried to pry her arms apart, frustrated and unsure at where to start. Her uncle had been shot, she knew that, she hated Finnick Odair more than anyone could possibly imagine, and thankfully she still had a knife tucked into her belt - that would come in handy when she was set 'free'. Not that she would actually be free, she was trapped on a ship in the middle of no where with her family most likely assuming that she was dead and that was what she cared about most, she wanted them to know that she was alive and unhurt, apart from the scratches which she assumed she had on her back from the sharp prod-dings the man had made to get her into the cell, but she was alive. And that was all that mattered.

But now she had to think of a plan, would she win them over by becoming friendly with them and persuade them to let her go? Or would she fight her way off, with only a small blade, with little chance of success? Even so, her thoughts were cut off at the sound of creaking wood as somebody made their way down the set of stairs that led to her cell.

Finnick swayed down the steps to the cells - it being relatively clean, surprisingly, his ship was rarely so but after their stop in Italy, his grandmother had made him clean the ship head to toe: after all, she was the only one he listened and took orders from, everyone else he turned a blind eye too. He had grown up around women and respected them more than the average man, especially those who had brought him up, which, was just Mags - his grandmother. But he stopped as he arrived in front of the woman's cell, looking over her as she struggled to unchain her wrists, cocking an eyebrow upwards at her struggles.

"You'll just tire yourself, you won't undo them. Nobody ever has," He told her simply, but did admire her determination: still shocked that a woman was allowed to be a guard in the first place. It was practically unheard of, wasn't it? Since when did the King relax his laws? Especially not for a commoner, not really knowing who this woman was.

"I'm not everybody... as you can see," She told him, pulling sharply against them and smirking when they broke, grinning at him then and holding up her hands, "I wouldn't prejudge me, _Finnick_." And that was what she decided that that was all she would say, she would tell him no more, refuse to share her name, the more she gave the closer she would become to them: she had a habit of that. She would always get to know her prisoners, pretty much learn their life story and watch them be beheaded. Oh the upsides of being a guard...

He looked to her, surprised at that, "Well you've just proven me wrong. Maybe you will be some use, what's your name?"

She shook her head, she refused to tell him.

"Cat got your tongue? What's your name, princess? Or is that your name? I can happily refer to you as that." He shrugged simply then, leaning to his left and reaching into a large crate, pulling out an apple and taking a bite. It was refreshing to say the least, fruit only kept for a few days, a week at most, and they were running out: usually living off drink and old meat along with stale bread whilst they sailed for a longer duration. "Want some?" He asked after taking a bite, offering it through the bars.

She shook her head again, what was the point? She wasn't going to get friendly with him or take his bribes, even if it was just an apple. She just wished to be home, safe within the walls of the castle or within the stables, with her horse and her brother, or even her father: he sometimes ventured downstairs and to the back, not that her mother was happy about that. She disagreed with her having a horse altogether: 'nasty, unpredictable creatures, you won't be able to control one.' Was what she used to get, which of course she went against, again, her uncle having taken her to a market one day where she was allowed to pick out a foal - which she did, a grey dappled mare with a wild attitude to the thrill of her mother. And there she was again, off in her own little world and disturbed by a confused Finnick clicking his fingers in her direction.

"Princess? You there? I think you've lost me." He said calmly, frowning somewhat and sighing in relief when she blinked, Annie then shaking her head and looking to him. She had a habit of that, her friends would always call her out for it and laugh, she would end up doing the same but it had become less of a habit now. Again however, she refused to speak.

Finnick gave up with a shrug then, "Well, I won't be letting you out anytime soon if you can't find your voice. I'll send Carl down later with food, don't want you starvin', do we? I do have some manners." He said with a boyish grin and with that, and another bite from his apple, he wandered back up the stairs and to the upper deck - looking out over the empty-sea once more. He wasn't quite sure on what to think of her just yet: after all, he couldn't exactly make an opinion of her if she refused to speak, or he could, but he liked to base his opinions on how they spoke and what they said, not their actions - unlike most, but he was like that. Even so, he was intrigued by the woman, questions running rampant in his mind. How did she become a guard? Why was she pretty much in tears at the Captain dying? Okay, maybe that was a little harsh of him but it had to be done, otherwise he wouldn't be standing here now.

"Finnick!" Another voice emerged, from the dark haired woman named Embla. "There's nobody else, there's no ships, the horizons clear." She informed him to his relief, a smile cracking at his lips then.

"Very well, then we can get a move on. To Port Dynasty next?" It was a favourite amongst all the pirating crews, it was just that elsewhere. Little law was enforced and they were to free to trade, drink, and other unnameable things.

Embla's face lit up at that, but soon another thought came to mind: "And the girl?"

He shrugged, "We have a month until we reach it, we'll stop along the way and consider what we want to do with her."

"You seriously can't have a sweet spot with her already." She grumbled then, he was never soft on those he captured. "You normally either throw them off the side of the ship or shoot them, not give them time to accustom themselves on board." She added.

He scoffed, was she getting jealous? All he had done was spoke to the girl, it wasn't like he had done anything else, "Of course not. Have you seen her? She's full of herself-"

"Like you. It doesn't ring any bells?" She smirked then, looking to him which received an eye roll off Finnick.

"Yeah, yeah... say what you want. You won't be saying that tonight though when I refuse to let you in my bed."

She frowned, "No? Then I guess you'll be missing your bed warmer then."

"You know I think of you as more than that. You're good company." He chuckled.

"Sure, whatever you say." And with that and a wave of her hand she went off to go find another member of the crew to tell them where they were heading - word always spread quickly on-board, your secret was everybody's secret: which kind of defies the point of the secret, but nevertheless, everyone knew everything about everybody - you just had to accept it.

* * *

It was later that evening when the sun was setting - the sun painting the sky in an array of oranges and reds, pinks and yellows - not that Annie could see that - when company emerged once more. Her eyes flittered upwards in his direction, a tall, broad shouldered man of dark skin, but with a friendly set of eyes that had seen far to much bad in the world. Even so, he had chosen to sail and had done for twenty years now. Carl, was his name, one of the most senior of Finnick's crew and one of his most loyal, even though he did always make it a habit to treat who they captured well, despite what they had done.

"I see we have a new addition. Carl, is the name. It's nice to make your acquaintance." He said, rather politely for a pirate which came at a shock to her, even though she did assume that he was putting it on. From what she had heard and seen all of them were as bad as each other, wanting nothing more than riches and fame: which arguably the Black Pearl's crew had gotten, but not in a good light.

At her consideration, she decided to keep quiet, as she had done before, refusing to become like them - she didn't want to fit in or certainly get to know them.

"I see that you're not much of a speaker, Finnick told me that. But I was wondering if you would like to help in the kitchen tonight? Get to know a few faces."

Again, she remained silent, watching him. She wasn't going to work for them! Not after what they had done.

"Well," He sighed, "You have to help. On Captains orders, he wants to get some type of use out of you before he decides what to do. But don't worry, I wont harm you. All I do is cook." He said light-heartedly, he didn't mean anything bad - he rarely did - arguably having the kindest heart out of everybody on the ship, but Dan, he was arguably the sweetest.

Annie frowned at that, since when did she take orders? Yet, she did reluctantly stand, huffing as she did so and grumbling under her breath. Cooking? Who did they think she was? She found no need to cook at home and rarely did, surely she sometimes baked, but cooking? Never. They had their own kitchen staff at home, cooking them the finest of meals on clean plates - all of this being far from what she expected to receive on here, that was if she would receive any food, anyway. Not that she would take it: she would be betraying her family, her name, if she did that - it would be a sign of giving in.

 **Thank you for reading so far, and the reviews, they mean a lot! Finnick and Annie won't get close right away (which you can probably imagine, after all, he did shoot her Uncle...), but who knows, we'll see what happens ;)**


	4. Chapter 4

All that Annie could describe the kitchen as was a hot, simmering soup. There were no windows and steam filled the small wooden room, with large pans bubbling away on a stove. It was only small, enough to fit a counter for food preparation, a large barrel of hopefully clean water and two stoves, along with a large crate filled with pots, pans and everything in between. It was nothing like home, often she would sneak into the kitchens at night and steal a biscuit or two if she was lucky, most of the time being caught by one of the maids and ushered to her room and this was far from the life of luxury she had been used to and this was something that she soon wished to escape; her home comforts being something that she craved despite only being on board for one very long day.

"So..." Carl cleared his throat, shoving a large slab of meat to the side for now and wiping down the side with a cloth. "We're having stew for dinner. It's already cooking, we just need to slice the bread up and plate everything up. And-" He caught her before she was able to make out any words, "Don't mess this up. I'm one of the friendlier ones on board and you certainly don't want to get onto the bad side of some." He warned and with that he pulled out a large loaf of stale bread from underneath the counter, having been hidden underneath yet another dirty-looking cloth. Annie was surprised nobody had gotten food poisoning, even though, she wouldn't know, she had only been here for a short period of time.

"I can do that." Were the only words that were able to leave her lips and she soon began to slice the bread with a large knife, not the most difficult of tasks but one she certainly wasn't used to. Even so, she could imagine the words of her mother in her ears: 'Good girl, Annie. This is what normal girls do... Not run around with horses all day.' And as much as she disagreed with it, she couldn't hold a word against her mother. It was why she had joined her Uncle's ship in the first place, being one of the only types of freedom that she had.

As the evening grew on and the stew stewed, outside a storm eventually reached them - announcing itself by the heavy raindrops of rain on the deck. Finnick hated the rain: the sails got soaked and the deck became almost impossible to stand on without losing your footing, and in response the sea practically got angry and threw them around relentlessly until it got bored and decided to no longer torture them all for a few hours. Everybody hated storms and on sight everybody began to hurry with their duties, either it be adjusting the sails position, or cleaning the deck, or steering and altering the ships course to try and stay out of the storm's path: not that that worked often, they were often unlucky and hit the worst of them. It was when the storm grew worse when Carl announced to Annie that dinner was cooked and that he would plate up: finding the wooden bowls which the crew shared and portioning everything out, asking her to go fetch everyone inside. She nodded, but reluctantly so. It would mean making contact with the rest of the crew and yes, speaking to Finnick again, the man she hated most out of everyone ever, if that was possible. But with tentative steps up the stairs she made her way up to the upper deck, already feeling the spray of the rain and the ocean upon her bare face: pale already from the cold. It was another thing that she suddenly realised that she missed, the heat of the fire and the bedpans that the maids brought up if it was cold, keeping her warm throughout the night and half-expecting that this would be possibly the worst night sleep she would ever have.

With a deep breath she eventually appeared on top, the large waves crashing down on the sides of the ship and rocking it left to right, dark grey clouds swirling overheard whilst the crew scurried around frantically like small rabbits looking for shelter. It was the cold that hit her first, and then the rain and the sea, throwing her side to side as she made her way around the deck, telling everybody one by one that dinner was ready and they were to go down to the lower deck. It took her longer than expected, slowly making her way across whilst desperately trying not to stumble, eventually finding the last member of the crew and heading back down stairs. It was when the cold hit her then, shivering as she tried to warm herself up; her clothing only thin and now soaking, almost immediately knowing that she would grow sick if she didn't change and get warm soon. But with the lack of heat and a spare set of clothes, she knew that she wasn't going to get very far. So when she did eventually make an appearance in the room, she sighed. Everybody else looked war and was changed, happily talking amongst themselves and eating to their fulfilment. It wasn't something she expected to be asked to join ,but she soon heard her name, well, the name that she was given by a certain someone, be called above the crowd.

"Princess! Come join us. We wouldn't want you to starve." Finnick told her, beckoning her over to where he sat. With a roll to her eyes she didn't argue against it, instead trudged in her soaking wet shoes across the room.

"I'm not hungry, Finnick. I don't really have the stomach to eat..." She eyed it up, and despite Carl actually being nice to her she was still reluctant to eat whatever was in that stew. "That. I'll head back downstairs or something,"

Finnick shook his head, "You'll get sick. Look at you, you look like a drowned rat, let me-"

"I'm fine, really. I don't want your help." With that she turned away with a heavy sigh, her clothes hanging off her like damp rags as she quietly left to Finnick's disapproval. She expected that that wouldn't be the last time she heard off of him that day, and she was right, after sitting in the cells for a couple of hours, shivering half to death, she heard footsteps making their way down the stairs.


	5. Chapter 5

The storm that had swayed them as if they were a paper boat was nothing compared to some that Finnick had experienced or heard of. There had been one occasion where they had been sailing across the North Sea to Scandinavia; large swells sending the ship lurching back and forth, drenching those who dared to make an appearance on the top deck. Nobody had seen the rocky outcrop of land however, the large, dark rocks that struck the side of Finnick's old ship, 'The Mermaid,' practically drowning her and two members of his crew. He had been lucky to escape, especially with a ship following behind him, they were able to pick up those who met the water one by one – saving the majority of the crew's lives. And that was how he had met his best friend, Gloss, but that was another story to tell for another day. Then there was the large storm in which brought an end to his father's life. He had only been twelve at the time, he hadn't quite understood what happened but as time grew on he had begun to put the pieces together: his father had been a well-known fisherman within the area, and with the promise of his return having never been broken the day brought great confusion to Finnick; his mother deteriorating after that until he had to move in with his grandmother. It was a story which nobody knew but Gloss; he found that he only ever admitted things to him: secrets and worries which he refused to give away to anyone else. He found as if that it was a weakness, nobody else seemed to share their worries - apart from Leo, but Leo needed Finnick in ways Finnick didn't need him, but he didn't reject him. After all, Finnick found comfort in Gloss in the same way in which Leo found comfort in him. But putting that aside, a storm like the one that they had just sailed through didn't worry him; instead it only added to the excitement of the trip – already running on euphoria as they had just conquered and sunk one of the King's best ships. Even so, the question of what to do with the girl they had half-captured, half-saved lingered on his mind. Embla had told him to leave her, besides, she wanted him dead anyway, but he had always been a firm believer in second chances and had arguably already given too many out. Yet still, the girl must have some skill, being a female amongst the King's navy was practically heard of: unspoken even.

"Not as rough as the other night, was it?" A very Irish sounding voice broke through the crowds, disrupting Finnick from his thoughts as he idly dipped a piece of his bread into the cooling stew; listening to the conversations that were thrown back and fourth across the table.

"It wasn't, lad. But I guess we can't complain, we all managed to steer her to safety in one piece." Maybe it was the right time to go check on the girl… She had been awfully dismissive of them all and he wasn't one to starve his prisoners.

Soon it was Finnick who cleared his voice, he was usually the centre of attention during meal times; thinking of himself as a rather approachable captain and one who was fairer than most. He knew of those who were practically a dictator; ruling over everyone in a strict manner; up until when they decided what they ate and when, and to when they were able to even sit and rest. He however, took opinions and suggestions, if one was too tired then he would let them rest, and it was how he had gained his reputation of being a fairly relaxed captain amongst the pirating community. Not that he let that reputation spread elsewhere, to everybody else he was one of the most successful, or most wanted, depending on how you saw him, pirates of the seas. Everybody held a grudge against him as he had simply affected most towns to a certain extent – whether it be looting or robbery, or to the point where the town was no longer liveable. "I will see you all in the morning. It's growing late, and with that I should rest. Great work today."

It was Carl who caught him, a simple tap on the shoulder as he ushered him aside, "If you're going to speak to her then I wouldn't bother. She refused to eat or even really speak, and I can normally make them crack," He told him with a sigh, "You've caught yourself a real stubborn one this time, Odair. Very similar to someone that I know." He told him, referring to Finnick with a small smirk but it didn't last.

Finnick grumbled under his breath before shrugging. He didn't really care if she was stubborn, it was just another challenge for him to defeat and he had witnessed and defeated many challenges before, "I'm sure she'll cave in in a few days. I doubt she is used to seas so rough, the King's fleet seem to have a phobia of large waves and dark clouds. They're a little pathetic, if you ask-"

"It doesn't mean that you can underestimate them." Carl warned in a stern tone, he was much older than Finnick yet he appreciated that. It was handy to have a man on board who held his own and had years of advice, especially one who wasn't intimated of speaking up, and half-teasing Finnick all the time. It was why they got along so well.

"I know, I know. I'm just sayin'." He retorted and held up his hands in mock surrender, "Just don't want her starvin', that's all. I already have a bounty on my head and I doubt they'll lower that if I murder one of their own. It's going to be a while until we make land again."

"If she doesn't murder you, that is. I found two knives on her when she came up 'ere. She's a sly one, you'll have to keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn't cause any trouble that we don't need."

He pinched the bridge of his nose then, it was all they needed. A feisty woman in their cells who wanted nothing more than to see his head on a spike. _Great_. This would be where Embla would be in her element, she took apologies off nobody and was one of the crueller people on board, even if she did have a soft spot for him. "I'll go have a word." With that, he soon turned, leaving the humid kitchens and entering a welcoming, cooler hallway. Everything was wooden, with the odd window here and there – but they were few in numbers, glass was expensive and he had spent a small fortune on adding them to the back of the ship where his room was. He enjoyed looking out over the sea at night even if he couldn't see much, but when the skies were clear he could swear he could see the same stars as when he was a child. He had taught himself to read them, too, if they were ever lost he was able to direct them with the small flickering lights from above.

The stairs creaked as he made his way down, the smell of stale water and off-food filling his nostrils. They weren't the most pleasant of rooms on the ship, but they were practical to say the least: not that they were often used. If they could, they would avoid taking prisoners; either shooting them on sight or letting others capture them; half the time they were a waste of space anyway.

"If you're here to tell me to do something else, I'm not," A voice arose from the darkness, reminding Finnick that the oil lamps needed lighting; without them she would practically freeze and that was something he wished to avoid.

"Surprise surprise, I'm not Carl, princess," Finnick called back in his usual cheery tone, but Annie could pick up the stress in his voice, the possible worry. She wondered then what he had to worry about, she was possibly never going to see her family again, Tobias... But she frowned. She couldn't crack and show her weaknesses to anybody: a rule which she had been told over and over by her Uncle.

'Even better...' Was what she wished to mumble, but she held her tongue and spoke other words. "And to what owes me the pleasure of seeing Odair, three times in one day?"

A smirk crept onto Finnick's lips then, was she challenging him? She wasn't the only one on board with a smart mouth. "You're in luck. Nobody wants me tonight, so I thought that I would share my precious time with you; not that you'll appreciate it, that is-" He appeared then, in front of her cell with a cocky expression on his features. "Which you should. Finnick Odair is full of secrets." He told her with an added edge to his voice.

Annie rolled her eyes, trying to act as if she didn't care but in reality all she wanted to do was sit by a fire and dry off. "Why would I want to know your secrets?"

"For one, you look freezing. And for two, I don't want to wake up to a body in the morning."

"It is cold... but I will manage," She sighed, shrugging then as she met his gaze. He had the brightest green eyes, if his story wasn't so cruel she would have called them beautiful, but if eyes that had seen such harshness and treason, she couldn't call them that. They had seen too much and arguably, hers had too.

"You will? Are you sure? There is a spare bed in one of the cabins-" Annie shook her head, "A pair of socks at least? I have some with me, they're clean, but they'll be something."

She swallowed thickly, considering it, it would take more than a pair of socks to warm her and she certainly didn't want help off somebody who had her uncle's blood on his hands. "I'll be okay. Thanks... though."

Finnick raised a brow then, he wasn't going to let her say no on this occasion despite his fierce, well, _what he thought was fierce_ , appearance and cocky personality. She hadn't personally harmed any of his crew anyway, she had only intended too. There was a difference. "Fine, then I will sit and spend the night with you, right here..." He opened an old chest then and rooted around, there was a spare blanket somewhere... as he pulled out countless objects, from pieces of jewellery to flasks of drink, he finally found one. It was scratchy, but it would do. So he slipped into her cell, watching her all the same before sitting down on the floor opposite her whilst wrapping the blanket around his shoulders. "I'm here if you want anything. There's a spare blanket in there, and I do sort of owe you an apology for killing your captain."

A sharp breath was inhaled then and she simply shook her head, bringing her knees up to her chest. "I suppose... We've killed many of you before. It makes us even." Yet she refused to tell him who he was to her, who _she_ was. He didn't deserve to know that she was the King's daughter, he didn't deserve the buzz that would surround him for capturing someone so regal. Someone with money and parents who would pay a small fortune for her return.


	6. Chapter 6

_Even._ Maybe it was the cold getting to her, biting at her skin harshly like a thousand small mice; all trying to burrow away into the warmth. Not in a million years would she ever truly admit it, but from the trembling of her hands and the paleness of her skin Finnick could see that she was struggling and despite her being one tough nut to crack, he could see that she was slowly splintering - seemingly from a mix of hunger, exhaustion and the bitter cold. Annie wouldn't admit to it however, she had to remain strong for her uncle and the rest of her family if she was to have a hope of returning, something which she put to the for-front of her mind and wouldn't let anything else replace it.

"Are you sure you don't want a blanket?" He asked then, breaking through her thoughts and bringing her back to the reality of the situation she was in. It was too cold to really make conversation, instead all of her efforts were being focused on keeping herself warm. "Wait, don't answer that. I'm answering it for you." With that, he stood, diving into the chest once more and pulling out the other blanket he had spotted earlier and returning with it swiftly. "Don't bite me." He then asked, slight humour to his voice as he carefully draped it around her shoulders. It was something, warming her slightly until she just sighed, looking down. She felt defeated and it had only been a night.

"Is there any chance... You've got anything spare to wear?" She asked slowly before meeting his gaze. She certainly didn't expect to see a side of him that actually cared, and if she had, she certainly didn't expect to see it so soon. Her aim had been to kill him and she was somewhat unsure at his offers - who treated their prisoners like this, anyway? She had always thought of pirates being cruel and without a caring inch within their bodies, or it was what she had been told by everyone that she had met. Finnick seemingly wasn't like this.

Finnick nodded without hesitation then, standing whilst keeping the blanket wrapped around his shoulders snugly. "I'll be right back."

Within the hour Annie was dry and warm, dressed in pants that were way too large and a large shirt that drowned her in fabric, but still, she was warmer than she had been in the previous forty-eight hours. Everything in her mind was ringing like loud alarms for her to stop and think to herself about why she was accepting Finnick's help, yet a tiny slither of her mind which she had apparently let take control was thankful for the warmth and the stopping of her trembling hands. On her old ship everything was warm; fires and oils lamps were lit and the large agar in the kitchen kept everyone warm: the ship practically managed to sail itself in the evening expect for one who kept watch - and that was done in shifts; not that she had been trusted with that role, that is. _'You're not fit to steer, Annie. Your mother would kill me even more than she wants too now.'_ Even more surprisingly, she found herself not in the cold, damp cells, but in the warmer kitchen where the hum of conversation could be heard; much better than the emptiness of the cells.

Finnick had stretched out his long limbs onto a chair opposite the one he was sitting on, picking at a strand of splintering wood with his nail whilst he pondered, his eyes often casting over the girl. Princess, she was known as to him: oblivious of her true name and oblivious of her status, to him she was just a girl who had gotten incredibly lucky and allowed to sail, something which usually didn't matter in his reign of work: not matter if you slept around, regardless of gender, you were able to sail if you wanted too and if you had the money you could Captain - the freedom of the vast oceans under his finger tips. It was why he loved it so much, he was no longer limited to the small, barren town he had been brought up in, if he wanted to go somewhere then he could and if he didn't like a place he could leave at the drop of a single word. Yet the girl in front of him seemed not to appreciate that.

"What's your name?" He asked after a long time, she looked like a Jess, or even a Beth, and he couldn't definitely picture her as a Susan or a Margaret.

Annie raised her head then, she was sat on a bench with one leg brought up to her chin whilst the other idly dangled. "I thought that I was Princess to you?"

"You are," The smallest of smiles tugged at his lips, "But what's your real name? I know everyone's but yours, Dan's is Daniel's, Embla is actually... Wait, I'm not meant to be telling you that," He chuckled then, Annie wanting to smile herself at his smile but resisted. "Please?"

Annie shook her head, her head cascading over her shoulders after Finnick had managed to find her a brush to her relief, it wasn't particularly clean, but it was knot-free, at least. "You have your secrets, Finnick, you said so yourself when I first met you. So that means that I'm allowed my own. Secrets aren't secrets if they are shared." She explained calmly, maybe she would eventually reveal her name, once she was about to leave anyway - that's if she was able to leave in the first place though, they seemed to be in the middle of nowhere.

Finnick sighed then, "I'm rarely refused, princess, but you continue to tease. But you're right..." He then had an idea and cocked a brow, "What if I told you a secret of mine to have your name? I promise not to tell."

She considered this, she could find out anything she wanted. "Why did you kill my Captain like that?"

He was quite surprised she agreed to it, and again was surprised by the question. "Because... He would have killed-"

"He wanted to bring you to port, not kill you."

"Then I was mistaken. But I doubt it would have been different, I would have arrived there and been hung, I was protecting myself. I'm sorry you saw it though, were you close?"

Annie sighed then, heavily, "He was my Uncle. Practically a second father to me, or an older brother, he let me get away with everything and was the one who..." But she went quiet, she was revealing too much and all she had promised was her name. "Okay. Okay... But he was a good man."

Finnick nodded then before running a hand through his tangled locks, not quite expecting that. Since when did a man sail with his niece? It was too dangerous to sail with relatives and family ties usually got in the way of things. "I'm sorry."

She let her eyes cast downwards, not quite accepting his apology but knew it was her turn to reveal her name. "Annie. My name is Annie."

Watching her, he smiled slightly, watching and studying her. She did look like an Annie, the name sounding way too calm and peaceful for a sailor however, it seemed a name which would fit somebody who perhaps made nets, or grew fruits, not one who put herself at risk on a guard ship against pirates. There really wasn't a more dangerous job. "What an odd name for someone so feisty."

"What are you trying to say?" She was somewhat more defensive then, an edge to her tone.

"That Annie is a gentle name, especially for one who is so defensive and feisty, one who won't allow help when sometimes she needs it."

"I don't need help, not often." She insisted then, frowning, but soon Finnick redeemed himself.

"No, no, I don't mean it in a bad way. I mean it by... You're very strong willed. It's a good thing for one who sails." And with that he fell quiet, leaning back in his chair with a comfortable sigh. People who were too 'soft' were often too fragile to be out at sea, arguably he had been at first, he had been terrified of the sea after the stories he had heard: the ocean like a growling monster which only looked to consume. But after a few years many trips changed that, he saw it as an open book, something which he could write and construct; the journey of his life now in his hands. It was one of the things he enjoyed, and with being Captain now he could choose who joined him.

"I've been told," Annie relaxed then, "My brother told me countless times. He hated me sailing for this very reason, scared that I wouldn't return and it would be down to my 'childish' dreams. As soon as my Uncle told me that I would be able to sail with him when I was older my mind was set on it. Nothing could change it."

"Opposite to me, it seems. But, one secret at a time, isn't it, Annie?" He tried out her name, smiling then. "It wouldn't be fair if we went against the rules."

"Touche, Finnick." Annie did smile then, a real smile, too, she was enjoying this conversation more than she had originally thought that she would. And arguably, Finnick was growing on her too.


End file.
